


A Billionaire's Charm (Not Oliver! The Other Billionaire.)

by aegis_trickster_52



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Joe is alive, M/M, Mainly based on first season, Slade has both eyes, because dead children is a sad thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegis_trickster_52/pseuds/aegis_trickster_52
Summary: When Oliver comes back after five years on an island he never expected to see a familiar face so soon. He never expected to see Slade Wilson. And he certainly didn’t expect to see him dating his best friend Thomas Merlyn.Slade Wilson survives an arrow to the eye, but rather than biding his time for revenge, he decides to go to Starling City and kill Laurel Lance straight away. However, he meets Tommy Merlyn, nearly an exact copy of Oliver Queen, and falls in love with another idiotic billionaire.





	1. Start Up

**Author's Note:**

> Oliver gets stranded 2007; Slade’s been on the island since 2006; Slade is on the island for three years when Oliver “kills” him. This is based on the fact that Oliver’s “on the island” for five years, and he comes home in 2012. 
> 
> Tommy is 28 when he died; therefore, he was 23 when Oliver “died”. He is 25 when he meets Slade. It’s safe to say he’s been doing stupid shit with Oliver since he was 18. Keep in mind, Tommy and Oliver are the same age, but Tommy is 3 months older. Feb. vs. May
> 
> Slade Wilson was born in 1968. He’s 44 in 2012; therefore in 2009, when he meets Tommy, he’s 41. 
> 
> Joe was born 2002. Slade had him at the age of 34. By 2012 he’s 10. In 2009 when he meets Tommy he is 7. He’s been in an orphanage since age 4. In this story, Adeline, Slade’s wife, died in child birth and has no part in the story.
> 
> I’ve just noticed the age difference.

2009, East China Sea

Slade Wilson woke up in the ocean. Its salt burned his eyes. An arrow still clung to his eye socket, so while adrift at sea, Slade pulled it from his skull. The pain was unbearable.

Plucking dead skin can be pleasurable. Pulling gray hair is painful at first, but after a while, it can give a soothing feeling. The same can be said to dead skin. It’s painful to scrub skin so harshly, but when the end result is baby smooth skin it’s not that hard to continue. Ingrown hair is the same. It looks disgusting, but it’s a nice pulling sensation until it’s out of your body. An eyeball is different.

An eyeball is living tissue. It’s connected to the brain through complicated nerves and muscles. An expert medical officer should be the one extracting an arrow from an eye. Not a soldier. Not a spy. Not Slade Wilson. He doesn’t remember extracting it. He doesn’t remember the blood running from his eye. He doesn’t remember letting go of the arrow that had his eye sticking to the pointy end.

Slade woke up with an arrow in his eye, lost consciousness while pulling it out, and woke up with a new eye in his skull.

Slade was in Japan when he woke up. Washed up on a beach surrounded by trash. His shirt had been torn by the ocean’s waters, and his pants weren’t in much better shape. His rage had dissipated after weeks afloat, nothing to direct his anger toward. Make no mistake, he would get his revenge. The only problem is that Slade now realized he was off the island. Three years of torture, betrayal, love, death, and more betrayal, left Slade wanting for the one light he had looked forward to when finally getting off purgatory.

His son, Joe, was still in Australia. Most likely in an orphanage after the false news of his death had been released. It had been two years after all. ASIS probably gave up on any chance of Slade being alive.

Finding a phone was the first step to Slade Wilson’s reintegration to life. He would alert ASIS to the falsehoods of his rumored death, retrieve his son, and finally go to Starling City to kill the woman Oliver loved.

* * *

 

2009, Starling City

Two years after Oliver Queen’s death, Thomas Merlyn was sinking. His best friend was dead. His father saw him as a useless dead beat son. Laurel, the love of his life had once again broken up with him.

The only problem to that last statement was that they had never been together to begin with. Since Oliver’s death, the two had been sleeping with each other on and off. Finally, Thomas had gathered his courage and asked for a real relationship. Too bad Laurel was only looking to sleep with Thomas for revenge. Since Oliver Queen had died sleeping with his girlfriend’s sister, then it only made sense for Laurel to sleep with the man Oliver Queen thought to be brother in all but blood.

On the other hand, it kind of made sense for Malcolm to see his son as useless. The man was living off his inheritance. He didn’t have a job and he wasn’t going to school. Thomas Merlyn is twenty-five and he has nothing going on in his life except drugs, alcohol, and a sex relationship with Laurel Lance, a 25 year old woman in law school.

It was during this slope of depression when Tommy met Joe Wilson.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade gets reunited with his son. Joe is saved from Daniel Brickwell.

2009 Beach in Japan

The telephone booth was sticky with trash, ocean mildew, and human biologicals. Safe to say, the booth wasn’t sanitary. Placing a collect call on an old ASIS number, Slade waited for an answer.

“Customer service, how can I help you?” a cheery female voice was the answer to Slade getting his life back.

“Authentication name:  Deathstroke. Access number 1003674.”

A slight pause. “Please hold while I confirm your complaint.”

Slade could only imagine the chaos he was about to stir. It didn’t make him feel that bad. Rather the opposite in fact. At least the marines in the United States Navy brought back their dead. His country left his body to rot. Unavenged. Slade wouldn’t make that mistake on Shado.

Someone else was on the phone now. A deep male voice. British accent. Not an Australian one.

“Slade Wilson. As I live and breathe, it’s nice to hear from you.”

“Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated, Harry.” Slade replied to the old spy, “What does Kingsman need from me if my call was redirected so quickly.”

Harry’s voice was genial and smooth, befitting of the gentleman he was. “Oh, you know, the sudden reappearance of an old friend has me quite concerned. Where is your partner, Slade? I’m afraid, during your long… absence, we’ve uncovered his quite illegal under the table jobs. One of which has crossed into my domain of expertise.”

The ocean breeze was getting a little cold. Time was picking up and soon enough people would be wondering why Slade was dressed up in tattered clothing in a telephone booth. Slade wanted out of Japan. Fast.

“Well if you could pick me up and drop me off, I would love to tell you just where Billy is.”

“Deal. Head to the closest airport and you’ll have your ride.”

Slade knew Harry always honored his deals and didn’t have to worry about being stranded. “He’s dead.”

Slade hung up the phone and walked to the closest open public area. Hopefully they’d give him a lift to the airport.

* * *

 

2009 London, Savile Row

Harry looked at his disconnected phone. Slade never did like the pleasantries of ending a phone call. Well the man did have his reasons. Being left stranded on an island, his partner most likely betraying him at the first sign of trouble, and then adrift at sea for who knows how long. Harry would let it slide.

Harry spoke to glasses, “Merlin. If you could send the appropriate papers to Saint Christopher’s Orphanage in Australia of Slade Wilson’s return that would be wonderful. I’m sure Joe would love to see his father again.”

Looking at another customer, Harry guided them to a pair of cuff links that would go great with the suit they were already wearing. Such is the life of a Kingsman. Espionage, spy craft, and tailor ship were rolled up into each agent of the agency.

* * *

 

2009 Saint Christopher’s Orphanage, Australia

It was another day in Joe Wilson’s life. The cafeteria was handing out its usual slop and soon enough the local bully would be on his way to take Joe’s food. Again. That would be fine though. Agatha was sick with the flu, but still on kitchen duty so Rick the Dick would get infected and that would be enough revenge for Joe.

Taking his soon to be stolen soup to the outdoors, Joe kept his backpack by his side. Setting the soup at the picnic table to be left until Rick ate it, Joe continued reading a book the librarian gave him the other day. The book was, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.” Joe’s read it dozens of times, but he enjoyed it all the same.

Nearby, a bell tolled, signifying another person was coming by to adopt an orphan. Joe gave up on being adopted on the first year of his arrival in the orphanage. Most couples didn’t want a selective mute that didn’t act within social norms as their child. Joe preferred being alone and if that prevented others from wanted him, then he wouldn’t want them anyway. Joe wanted his father more than anything, but life wasn’t a movie or an after school special, as his father would put it. Superheroes don’t exist and the dead don’t come back to life. Marvel movies were a lie that gave the illusion that nobody dies in life. The truth, is that everyone dies. Especially the ones you need the most.

Slade was disgusted with the building his son lived in. It was dilapidated. The roof had visible signs of rot. Weeds sprouted throughout the yard, covering the place with them rather than actual grass. Metal scrap was seen along the side of the building, left out to the elements where any child could play with it and lose a hand. Surely ASIS could do a better job looking after the families of fallen agents. Even Kingsmen could do a better job. Maybe.

Slade would be suing the shit from his government. His bank account would be lined with three years of hazard and back pay in addition to the money ASIS would pay him to keep him from shaking the proverbial tree.

Walking through the orphanage lobby to a lady at the receptionist’s desk, Slade handed her his ID. Harry had been kind enough to fill the airplane transporting Slade with everything he would need to reenter civilization. The lady looked at his ID and told him to go around back where Joe was always seen reading one book or another.

Following the directions, Slade found his son.

He was small for his age, if the other children in the orphanage could indicate anything. A bowl of soup was left alone as Joe continued reading a book. Noticing the title, it was the last book Slade ever read to his son. A briefing on the airplane told Slade all his possessions were thrown out and Joe was only allowed to bring the essentials to the orphanage. So, the book Joe was reading was probably a library copy or a present.

Slade was about to sit beside his son when another kid walked up to Joe. A friend? Joe was always a quiet child, so Slade was happy that his son had made friends despite his “death”. He was just about to join them when he saw the oversized kid take Joe’s food and throw his book into a tree.

Seeing his son being bullied was the final string that snapped in Slade’s mind. In addition to the island, he’d been declared dead, his child living destitute in an orphanage, and now not even his son had peace? For three years, his son had lived here. Slade’s only held him in his arms for four years. Less than that if you counted the amount of times he’s been away from him on missions. No one could really blame Slade for shoving the bully’s face into the lukewarm soup and pushing him away. Not too hard though, because Slade was still super powered, and he drew the line at abusing children. Not even stupid children that bullied his poor son.

Joe didn’t expect anyone to help him.

Rick stealing Joe’s food was a regular occurrence, so the supervisors started ignoring Rick’s violent tendencies.

Maybe the new worker, Bart, saw Rick and intervened. Joe wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Looking up from his book to thank the worker, Joe was shocked when he saw his father.

* * *

 

2006 Slade’s apartment

Joe was playing with a live-in babysitter. His four-year-old mind only playing with toys that were blue, when the door bell had rung. A man in a nice-looking uniform was at the door. Hiding behind the babysitter’s leg, the man kneeled and gave Joe a box and a letter. The box was an award for Slade’s service, and the letter was to inform any family member of Slade Wilson’s death. The only problem was that Slade only had Joe. Joe only had Slade. They had no one else, except for Uncle Billy, but he always went with Slade on adventures. If his dad was dead, then his uncle was dead too.

Joe locked himself in his room after that. His pudgy little legs, running up the stairs to his room. His arms, clutching the medal his father received for his service. Joe’s room was filled with hundreds of pictures of the two.

Joe and his dad going on a fishing trip. The two of them at a park. Slade and his son watching a movie. Pictures of the two sleeping on the couch. Every single one was only a painful reminder that his dad was dead. The only family member Joe had left.

There wasn’t a single picture of Joe’s mother holding him. She had died to quick during childbirth. It was only Joe and Slade. Father and son. Except the first was gone. Leaving the other behind to pick up the pieces.

* * *

 

2009 Saint Christopher’s Orphanage

“Dad?”

It was the first time in three years. Three years of not hearing his son’s voice. It was soft and squeaky from disuse, but it was the most beautiful sound Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, had ever heard.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Slade always called Oliver “kid”. He did that because he saw the young man as a friend. A partner. A brother. Not anymore though. But he wouldn’t let the turncoat taint his son’s nickname. Oliver may have tainted everything he’s ever touched, but Slade wouldn’t let that taint mark the shining memories of his son.

Father and son hugged. The two hugged for a long time. Three long years were spent away from each other. It’s a miracle Joe even remembers his dad’s face. They were reunited again. Father and son. Slade and Joe Wilson. It would take time for Joe to get used to his father’s differences. But he’d take that over not having a father again.

* * *

 

2009 Starling City

It was a long flight to Starling City. The papers that gave Slade his son back were expedited by ASIS. They didn’t want to get on the agent’s bad side again. They were already on a low budget thanks to the money Slade got when he sued them. When regional head of ASIS, Wade DeForge, asked his director for more funds, he was laughed at and sent back to his office. It was DeForge’s fault for declaring Slade Wilson and Billy Wintergreen dead in the first place. He was even more at fault for dropping the ball on Slade’s only son, Joe. If anything, DeForge was lucky for not losing his job.

The streets of Starling City were bustling, even in the night. Joe wasn’t used to holding his dad’s hand so he was left to walk alongside him. Unfortunately, Joe was soon knocked away from his dad and into an alley where a white, bald headed man was standing.

Daniel Brickwell was in the alley hoping to rob another woman of her purse, and if she was unlucky, her life. He was interrupted when a blonde-haired runt ran into his leg and saw the situation he was in.

Joe looked up and saw the bald man holding a gun. He saw a lady holding onto her purse. He was seven, not stupid. He could draw his own conclusions and those were that he had stumbled onto a crime. He’s seen the face of the criminal and he was in danger. The only thing a seven-year-old could do was scream, but Brickwell quickly put his hand onto Joe’s mouth.

A gun raised. A trigger about to be pressed. Joe was going to die. He had just found his dad, and the two had left their home country to go to this strange city and he was going to die.

Too bad Tommy Merlyn was walking along the same street. He noticed a kid falling into an alley and not coming out. Fearing the worse, he found a pipe and came into the alley in the nick of time. Never let it be said Thomas Merlyn wasn’t good at swinging a pipe. Because Daniel Brickwell sure felt it. And he quickly lost consciousness.


End file.
